


Leftover

by VFanelli



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Family, Gen, Goodbyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 18:27:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VFanelli/pseuds/VFanelli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Sitting in the waiting room, Gavin has a sort of out of body experience.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Final goodbyes after the reaping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leftover

Sitting in the waiting room, Gavin has a sort of out of body experience.

Momentarily, it’s like he’s watching himself sit there, nervously swinging his legs and drumming his fingers against the armrests, and all he can think is: I wonder if the poor bloke even knows what he’s gotten himself into. And that’s exactly when he realizes that he’s that poor bloke and that he honestly does not have the slightest idea how he’s going to pull out of this one because he isn’t. This is the Games and even if Gavin has spent his whole life worming out of trouble and tight holes this is the one trouble too deep and hole too tight for him. It’s such a crushing thought that for a while he cannot even comprehend it—he just keeps smiling idiotically until suddenly the smile drops and is gone and he’s got nothing left to smile about.

He thinks about his heritage, then, because it’s just as good of a thought as any. He thinks about the stories he can vaguely remember from his childhood, even when he doesn’t remember who told them to him—was it his mother? Father? Their voices ring blank in his head, faces as expressionless as ever. Maybe he’s fortunate he doesn’t have any memories to remind him of what he’s missing. Maybe he would do anything to have some, be they good or bad, because in their stead there is nothing, just an empty void inside him, where there should be warmth.

So he thinks of the stories and the bits and pieces they offer him—the crumbs.

Somebody told him that his great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, or some other old chap distantly related to him, came to Panem long before the Dark Days, long before the country of Panem had become the place it now was. Things were simpler in those times. Nowadays, people hardly even believed that there could be land beyond the oceans, but back then people were allowed to move about as they wished with little restriction. Gavin’s likes to imagine that _that’s_ what his name means, that they were Free once.

Another remarkable feat about his familiar roots is that throughout decades, possibly even centuries, all members of the family managed to hang tightly onto the accent which forefather Free had brought along him from overseas. The strange way of speech had given the Frees an air of peculiarity that had often made them outcasts in the community. Such had been Gavin’s fate, too, and in that fate he would’ve met his end after the death of his parents were it not for an unexpected intervention.

He knows he is fortunate beyond all belief to have been taken in by Geoff—Geoff, who chooses that moment to burst into the room, Griffon not too far behind. Her stomach is swollen and no matter the situation, Gavin finds himself unable to prevent the cheesy smile from spreading on his lips because she is beautiful, radiating the gorgeous glow of an expecting mother. Geoff truly is one lucky man to have her, and Gavin is lucky to know them both.

“Oh Geoffrey,” he coos and sees the flash of irritation pass by the man’s eyes. He still doesn’t like the way in which Gavin outright refuses to call him by his nickname like everyone else. “You came to see me. Thank you.”

“Gavin, shut up,” Geoff grunts and promptly pulls him to his feet, crushing him against his chest. 

Well, this is rare, Gavin wonders idly. For what feels like minutes he stands there quietly, arms pressed to his sides, trapped in Geoff’s embrace. It’s positively awkward at first—Geoff has never been one for physical affection and Gavin has never had to learn to react to it—but soon enough he relaxes into the other man’s warmth, leaning his chin on his shoulder.

After an eternity of silence, Geoffrey’s whispered confession breaks the silence.

“It was a tough decision ten years ago, you know that,” he mutters, and yeah, Gavin knows what he means. “I had Griffon and me to think about, our future. I definitely chose the rockier road, then, but I didn’t regret it one damn time. Even when I’m often thinking that you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” his voice broke for a second, “still, I never thought I would have to give you up.”

For once Gavin is silent. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment with his mindless babble because he’s bound to choose the wrong words. Instead he nuzzles Geoff’s neck. There’s a burn behind his eyelids, the tears threatening to fall but he hasn’t cried since he was a kid and he’s not about to start now. 

“I raised you crooked,” Geoff says and cracks a small laugh. Gavin joins in with a chuckle of his own, because it is kind of true. “God, Gavin, you’ll be the strangest tribute ever. And when they ask you about your family, I’ll get all the damn blame. I deserve it.”

“I’m going to do you proud,” the boy mumbles, the words almost unrecognizable through his drawl. “I’m not going to change. I’m not willing to give myself up.”

They both understand the implication. He is not going to survive.

“Then don’t,” Geoff says, choking on a sob and trying to fake a smile. “Be who you are. You’ll do me proud, alright. I know it.”

He finally releases Gavin from his grip and steps back. With a barely audible tone he adds:

“Remember you’re fight against the games, not in them. You’re not their pawn. You’re smarter than that.”

Gavin grins crookedly.

“Thanks, Geoffrey.”

Then, all of a sudden, it’s Griffon’s turn and Gavin can feel all air burst out of his lungs. It’s rather remarkable, really. She isn’t a tiny woman by any means, but Gavin is taller than her, and her pregnant state gives her an air of vulnerability that’s about as far from the truth as A is from Z in the alphabet.

“You better take care of yourself,” she says, almost threatening in tone. “You just take care of yourself and I’ll take care of me and Geoff.”

“And Millie,” Gavin cries out. “You have to say hi to Millie for me.”

She gives him a funny look.

“Who’s Millie?” Geoff asks.

“The baby, you donuts,” he exclaims, grinning so wide it’s painful. “She’s going to be pretty and amazing just like her mummy, so you better tell her stories about me. She’ll cause you a lot more trouble than I ever did and drive you absolutely nuts but all the same she’ll be the most loved little lady in all of Panem and you’ll never lose her because I’m going to guard her from harm.”

He has never seen Griffon cry, but by the end of his speech there are tears shining in her eyes. As the Peacekeepers come in to usher the couple out she brushes his cheek one last time.

“Thank you Gavin,” she whispers. “Millie and I will cheer for you.”

Left alone in the waiting room, he keeps on grinning because he’s Gavin Free, and grinning is what he does, even when there’s no reason for it, and the stretch on his lips hurts so bad he thinks he’s going to have a stroke.

**Author's Note:**

> I initially wrote this as a part of a longer story that I’m currently working on. I had to get rid of it, because I wanted to make changes to Gavin’s background, but couldn’t bear deleting it, because I kinda still like it. So here it is, literally a leftover.
> 
> Also, first fic in this fandom! I might have a panic attack. ;__;


End file.
